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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075237">Fumus et Specula</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragicallywicked/pseuds/tragicallywicked'>tragicallywicked</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Agatha &amp; Wanda Verses [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Harkximoff, Like seriously slow, No Beta We Die as Men, No Lesbians Die, Post-Canon, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Wandagatha, bring out the lesbians</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:22:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragicallywicked/pseuds/tragicallywicked</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda wasn’t going to allow Agatha to use her powers, she didn’t trust her like that (nor should she), and Agatha knew to gain her powers back it would take a lot more than just some magic lessons.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Agatha &amp; Wanda Verses [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2212764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>204</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to the slowest slow burn you'll see. Enjoy the ride ♡</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">
  <strong>CHAPTER ONE</strong>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p5">—</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“I was raised in hatred. I could never be your lover, only your killer.”</p><p class="p4">― <em><span class="authorOrTitle">Chloe Gong, </span><span>These Violent Delights</span></em></p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p5">—</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p6">“Again,” Agatha waved her fingers in the air, ordering the woman before her to repeat the incantation. Wanda grunted, an annoyed breath escaping her lips.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“This is pointless.” It was overly complicated to simulate fights and spells when Wanda had nothing—or no one—to fight against. Agatha had lost her patience and her will to repeat that to the younger witch. Wanda wasn’t going to allow Agatha to use her powers, she didn’t trust her like that (nor should she). Agatha knew to gain her powers back it would take <em>a lot</em> more than just some lessons on magic. She had been behaving her very best to gain the redhead’s trust, but that too was pointless after she’d tried to kill the woman’s children. It didn’t help either that they were lost now and all this struggle to dominate magic was to save them from some sort of dimension her powers had created in the process of undoing the previous spells.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“It <em>is</em> pointless, angel. You progressed <em>so much</em> when we were fighting each other, I don’t know what else to tell you. It can’t be everything how you want it, hon. You need an opponent, it’s not the same to fight a three dimensional version of yourself.” Agatha shrugged, strolling toward the edge of the boundaries Wanda’s runes were cast. Along with the incantation preventing her to leave, much like the one that had held people inside the Hex a few months before, Agatha was trapped there with the younger witch, mentoring her into excellence. “But it is something, dear. So stop wasting my time already.” Her tone was harsher than before, tired of Wanda’s resistance to her teachings. She’d collected her from Westview over a month ago, but they weren’t in good terms yet (especially not considering how Wanda would frequently turn her back to Agnes whenever the two witches got into arguments).</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">If only Agatha could get into Wanda’s mind, either to distort or to figure out just what was her true plan, but those thoughts hadn’t been available for long now. Wanda had advanced impressively in the time they spent away, with Agatha stuck in Westview as her noisy neighbor persona (as torturing as it was not having her skills and having to watch in silence herself a completely different person in the mirror, it had been a good time, a break from the regular hustle for power she’d been used to her whole life). But even with Wanda’s impressive learning skill, that reminded Agatha of herself, there was just too much knowledge for her array of powers (that Agatha strongly feared).</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“You don’t have to fear me, I’m not going to hurt you, Agatha.” For once, Wanda’s voice was kind and calm, like she’d meant it. Agatha, on the other hand, had been wired not to trust others, always ready to be betrayed—or to betray, so she scoffed, angrily.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Stay out of my brain,” she barked, gazing at Wanda over the shoulder, a twist in her smirk. “Give me at least some dignity.” Agatha didn’t trust the redhead either, that much was clear, and partly because Agatha had given her motive to want revenge. With her thoughts blocked, it made it the issue all the more pressing—not that she would trust her altogether with some glimpse of her thoughts either, anyone could deceive the other, Agatha herself had been keeping her mind at alert around Wanda. But it would at least give the older witch <em>some</em> safety of her own wellbeing in the near future.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“This is going nowhere without you trusting me.” Wanda rolled her eyes while Agatha gave her a sarcastic laugh.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“That’s what I’ve been telling you, buttercup.” She turned in her heels, marching toward Wanda, the height and the dramatic witch dress making Agatha a frightful and yet breathtaking sight. “You won’t trust me to fight against you, I won’t trust you not to be planning my complete doom all along, we’re even.”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">Wanda had to look up to her, they weren’t <em>that</em> much different but Agatha was still a good amount taller than her and she wanted—liked to face her head on, as terrifying and threatening as the older witch tried to be. She wasn’t scared of her, and Agatha also knew it fully well.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“If I wanted to, I would have killed you long ago, Agatha,” Wanda said, seriousness dripping over this time. She meant it, every single word, but the brunette still laughed.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“I don’t believe you one bit.” It was Agatha’s nerve that angered Wanda. She was there, trapped inside a cabin with runes all around them and an imprisonment spell preventing her from running free, yet she chose to irritate Wanda to the core every single time.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Don’t test me, Agatha,” Wanda grunted under a breath, her eyes flickering red.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“You don’t have it in you, baby.” Agatha kept on poking, taunting her to the edge. “That’s where you and I are different, you said it yourself before. There’s no good in me, there never was. And you still want to be a hero, you won’t kill me even if it’s to end the villains life.”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“You’re not a villain, Agatha.”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">The older witch rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’d never have released that poor little town, hon. I don’t mind torturing people if it’s for my own benefit. I would have killed those kids to get your power. Do you want more?”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">Agatha knew it was coming the minute the words left her mouth, the strike of Wanda’s power against her chest, tossing her against a wall. The tingle of magic sparking in her soul. Oh, how she wished she could absorb all that—the strength of her rage so heavy in the swing of power. But all it was left were the tickling of magic fading away into air and Agatha’s frustration do palpable.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Don’t speak of my children again,” Wanda said, her accent thick like the tears pooling in her eyes. Agatha didn’t apologize as she gathered herself from the floor, fixing her hair and her clothes.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Now you believe me?” The smirk that set across her face sent Wanda to the edge again, and Agatha knew it was time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our lesson.” She said a second before Wanda turned her back, trapping her mind inside Agnes.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Oh, hey, hot stuff,” Agnes told Wanda with a lightened smile. “Back from the hike already? How was it?”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Frustrating,” Wanda cut her with the short answer, but much like Agatha that didn’t shake her.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“I’m sorry to hear, hon. How about I cook us something good? Nothing like some food to pick up a day, huh?” She was standing far from Wanda, but something so magnetic brought Agnes closer and her hands rested on Wanda’s shoulder for a moment. “I may not have all the answers, but I know a mean dish to spice up your mood, how does that sound?”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Lovely,” Wanda nodded, half smile toward the woman who was merely a fake version of her worst enemy. “Thank you, Agnes.” She mumbled and ran her fingers through her red curls. “Do you mind if I take a shower in the meantime?”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Are you asking me to join?” Agnes tilted her head and held a silent smile for a moment, Wanda’s appalled widened eyes at her, before she cracked into a laughter. “Oh, a gal can dream, can’t she?!” Her flirtatious tone continued as Agatha elbowed Wanda lightly. “Go on, take your shower and I’ll make us something to eat, dear.”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“All right.” Wanda nodded, still recovering the true color of her cheeks. “Thanks, Agnes.”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Of course, hon.” She watched Wanda stroll into the roll and chuckled before shouting, “just don’t take too long or I may join you after all!”</p><p class="p7"> </p><hr/><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p6">Dinner was quiet, or as quiet as it could be with Agnes commenting on the things she’d seen on television, or near their cabin. It wasn’t much of a life and that was something she would sometimes comment about as well. Wanda did much more listening when it was Agnes and not Agatha, partly because Agatha always exhausted her mentally but there was also the fact she enjoyed listening to Agnes chat about the most mundane things, with no concerns for anything other than house chores and television programs.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">What an easy life that was, one that Wanda had experienced and longed to have back. She knew that would never happen now, not ever again, but Agnes helped her feel <em>human</em> again, grounded into a reality where things were normal and easy again. Perhaps why she enjoyed Agnes company so much. It wasn’t real, but her life with Vision and the twins hadn’t been either, and she would cherish every minute of it until the rest of her days.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">Bed time was a lot more complex because Agnes was verbally unhappy about the bed Wanda had arranged for her, but also because Wanda could barely close her eyes, ever. At times it was the voices—Vis and the kids, others it was Agnes nightmares. She didn’t trust Agatha to in her true form at night, not even the best spell could assure Wanda that Agatha wouldn’t just simply stab her to death to get what she wanted, and having her in her Agnes form meant Agatha was absorbing everything from Wanda at night. Her fears, her grief and sorrow. Everything.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">She’d cry and scream and wake up in sobs at times, and Wanda would slip next to her and stir her awake gently when it happened.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“I— It was a bad dream,” Agnes would apologize and Wanda would nod, handing her a mug.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“I made you tea.”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">Most night followed the same routine and Wanda was regularly deprived of her sleep when it was time again to practice with Agatha. But that night something was different, changed, when she slipped next to Agnes to wake her up. She caught a glimpse of her thoughts, undefended by Agatha. It sounded first like mumbling, but it was like Wanda was reading into the dream.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">
  <em>You can’t kill her, take me instead. I was the one drowning from the dark dimension, not her. She was my puppet. Take me instead!</em>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">Wanda could tell this was coming from Agatha and not Agnes, but how was it possible? Was she <em>defending</em> her from someone? And <em>who</em> was she so scared of? Before Wanda could look further, Agnes woke in a gasp, holding onto Wanda’s arm.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Oh, it’s you.” She breathed in relief, panting still.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“What were you dreaming about?” Wanda asked, torn with curiosity and concern.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“I— I don’t remember.” Agnes looked away and Wanda was quick to search her thoughts. She truly didn’t, her mind so blank it hard to even say she was having any thoughts.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“It’s all right,” Wanda said encouragingly, waving off the concern from Agnes. “I was just worried about you. It seemed pretty bad.”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">Agnes nodded. “It was, it felt, at least. But I can’t remember why.” The puzzle only made Wanda the more curious, but she feared confronting Agatha about it would only lead to lies and more questions.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Well, you’re awake now.” Wanda smiled, more warmly and concerned than ever. “Tea?”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“It seemed that’s all we do, nightmares and tea.” She chuckled awkwardly this time, adjusting her hair behind her ear. She felt embarrassed for giving her friend so much trouble, but Wanda didn’t seem the least bit bothered (which Agnes didn’t know if it made better or worse). “I’m sorry I’m being <em>such trouble</em> on our little girls’ getaway!”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“You’re no trouble at all, Agnes.” That was certainly a lie, Wanda decided. Both Agnes and Agatha were a lot of trouble, just in different ways. But unlike her relationship with the <em>witch</em>, Wanda valued that bond with Agnes—even though they were the same and the array of it all was confusing and disturbing. She wanted nothing but Agnes (and Agatha’s in the process) wellbeing.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“I’ll get us the tea, you stay put.” Wanda was raising from the bed when Agnes held her back.</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Actually, can you stay here a while longer?”</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p6">“Of course, Agnes.” Her fear was palpable, so Wanda immediately nodded. “I’m right here.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm overwhelmed with all the love this first chapter has gotten and it's encouraged me to write even more of this outline. Thank you all SO MUCH, truly, for the reviews. I love to see what you're thinking and what are your theories for the things that are going to unfold—and to try and see who gets it right!</p><p>I have not had the time to get myself a beta yet, so hold on tight with the possible errors. I might fix a typo or mistake here and there after it's been posted, that I may have missed reviewing it, but nothing drastic. I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for being so kind to me! ♡</p><p>PS. want to thank my friend Kayla from the Wandagatha roleplay, for some little inspirations she's given me in our rping sessions!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <strong>CHAPTER TWO</strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">—</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war.</p><p class="p3">You and I get so damn dysfunctional we stop keeping score.”</p><p class="p3">― <em>Maroon 5</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">—</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">Agnes wasn’t in bed when Wanda woke up. She had stirred early and quietly. The night before she’d managed to fall back asleep, but after very long. Her and Wanda had talked about several different things in the middle of the night. She’d told Agnes about her favorite sitcoms and why she had loved them.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“It’s safe. No one gets hurt and everyone is always happy,” Wanda had told her quietly and Agnes had smiled and given her arm a soft squeeze.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“I like safe things, too.” She’d replied, also in the lowest tone. It was as if they were trying very hard not to stir anyone awake, even if they were alone in their whispers. Agnes had looked Wanda in the eyes, so close to her, and she had thought how beautiful the redhead’s irises were. She’s always thought Wanda to be extremely stunning and she had taken notice of the depth of her eyes before. But every time it was like the first, they were enchanting, almost like she’d lured Agnes into some sort of trance and she was so taken by her friend.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">She’d pushed the thoughts out of her mind and she had commented on her own favorite shows, more modern ones than Wanda’s preferred picks. Agnes preferred the police ones, and the mystery ones—they were more exciting than her boring little life, they brought a tingle of joy to her guts that she enjoyed very much. And between light conversations Agnes had forgotten all about the worry and the fear and she had drifted off to sleep with Wanda still there, laying next to her.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">The redhead had moved onto her own bed as Agnes took noticed in the morning, taken by the coldness of the cabin and not Wanda’s warming presence, and she’d slipped out of the room quietly not to wake Wanda (who also had a terrible habit of sleeping so little).</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">She had sat outside and watched the sun settle high as the breeze and the fresh air gave her a of peace Agnes hand’t truly been expecting. As boring as her life felt, Agnes just <em>knew</em> that the slowing down was something good for her. She didn’t know <em>what </em>she was slowing down, but it felt right and good to be doing so—and it was a win to be there with someone she cared for and enjoyed the company so strongly.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">With that in mind she stepped back into the cabin to make them breakfast—there wasn’t all that much but Agnes could always make do with the things she was provided. Eggs, spiced like she knew Wanda enjoyed, some toast with honey and tea. (They drank far too much tea and perhaps that was the reason they did so little sleep. Maybe, Agnes thought, they needed to review those choices, ask Wanda that they run into the town to get some milk chocolate. Nothing would put someone to bed so comfortably like milk chocolate.)</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Wanda joined Agnes halfway through finishing cooking the meal. She looked adorably sleepy, but content to see the brunette awake and well.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“You’re up early.” Wanda commented, flashing a smile at Agnes as she stretched.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“I woke up and couldn’t close my eyes again,” Agnes chuckled, giving her friend a shrug. She had in a different energy than her usual, more quiet and contained, with no pet names and cheeky remarks, and that alerted Wanda.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“More nightmares?”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Agnes shook here head. “I actually slept really well.” She tried to place why her early raise but couldn’t pinpoint it. “Just, couldn’t rest after I was up.”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">She told Wanda about going outside and watching the sun and how peaceful it had felt, while serving their scrambled eggs and toast, and she told her about the milk chocolate idea—which had made Wand burst into genuine laughter (one that Agatha adored the sound of, so very much).</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“I mean it! It’s a godsend to fast sleep.” She’d joined her into laughing as well, elbowing her side in the process. “We should get some juice too, I’m <em>so done</em> with tea at this point!”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“All right, we can drive to the store later.” Wanda knew Agnes liked to see people, even if it was in brief interactions, because Wanda was turning her so often back and forth, Agnes couldn’t really tell when it had been long since she hadn’t seen anyone else other than Wanda.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Lovely, dear!”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Agnes had told her of other things she wanted to get there, dishes she wanted to try and make them. It all felt so good and so easy. But Agnes knew it was coming, she knew the time for Wanda’s daily walks would be very soon, and for some reason she wanted to stretch their time together.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Are you sure you don’t want company on your hike?” She asked her, while Wanda was doing the dishes, her arms crossing in front of her. “I know you want to get away from my chatter box, but I would love to tag along, sweetcheeks.”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Wanda stopped in her task when she heard the first part, turning to look at Agnes.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Oh, Agnes, I don’t hike to get away from you!” She had caught the part that Agnes was hoping she hadn’t. She always had a gut feeling that Wanda sometimes wanted to just get away, that Agnes was too much to handle at times (it had to be the plausible explanation to why she was unmarried now, to why she had no friends and no family, no one could stand Agnes's intensity. At least that was what she made of it).</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Sweetheart, it’s all right! We all need free time.” Agnes tried to shrug it away, like it didn’t matter to her, like it wasn’t a problem that Wanda did that. But it did pain her in some level. And Wanda saw it now, but she couldn’t quite explain to Agnes that there was no hike, that she was merely bringing her <em>true form</em> out so they could practice.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Tell you what, why don’t I stay in longer and we watch some shows?” Wanda had to bite her lower lip to hide the smile over Agnes's clear contentment. It was so easy to be nice to Agnes and her huge smiles, so natural to simply <em>befriend</em> her (she wished it was that simple with the other side of Agatha).</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“That would be lovely, dear!”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">They watched shows for longer than Wanda expected and when it was way past noon, she reached for Agnes’s temple and the tingling flick of magic turned her back into Agatha.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Finally! I don’t know how much longer I could endure those sitcoms,” Agatha had immediately said, grunting in disdain as she rose from her seat on the couch, making Wanda visibly annoyed and lost.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Agatha would never admit her level of consciousness when she was Agnes, how much she simply <em>felt</em> by watching her other persona, and just how much she enjoyed the closeness and bound that Wanda and Agnes had. Not to herself and not to Wanda. And she couldn’t hint it either, so her immediate response was always to pull away, to lift back up the walls Agnes could so easy tear down for Wanda.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">It was the power of it the terrified Agatha, the realization of their proximity that worried her. She wasn’t used to being close to anyone, she didn’t want to trust nobody. But Agnes did, she did it so easily and Agatha couldn't control it, she couldn’t stop it, she could only watch. Getting close to people had only brought her trouble—allies, lovers, covens. All of them, and Agatha wanted nothing to do with them, with any of it. Instead she build barriers around herself, shutting out the world while she looked out for herself. And the fact Agnes so quickly broke all that because of Wanda, <em>for her</em>, it was her worst fear. As Agatha, she had to push away, to put up the boundaries, to say it was all fake, all part of the illusion. But not all of it was.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“I though you were never going to turn me,” Agatha scoffed, irritated that she couldn’t magically turn off the TV, that she actually had to walk there and press the button. But it wasn’t only th TV she was mad about, of course. The little moments that morning having left her angry and distraught, for the danger they imposed to her <em>evil witch</em> image.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Well, I turned you now, haven’t I?” Wanda rose from the couch as well, letting out a quiet breath as she made her way to the kitchen to dispose the mug she’d still have with her from breakfast. “Let’s just get started.”</p><p class="p4"> </p><hr/><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">The day followed uneventful, with Wanda unfocused on her training, instead trying to read through the walls Agatha had imposed in her mind, the strange dream never leaving her mind. There were no real spells there, only time and skill. Preventing her enemies from coming in had been a protection technic the older witch had to learn the hard way. She had been brought upon the stake for that very reason, for letting her guard down and allowing people in. It caused death and destruction but alsoa higher grasp of her powers, made her tougher, stronger, and lonelier. Agatha was used to that last part though.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Wanda was a change, having her constantly there wasn’t exactly something she’d been used to, not for centuries, at least. She hadn’t had a coven since the sixteen hundreds, venturing on her own. When the blip struck the universe she’d survived, but Agatha hadn’t suffered loses of any significance. If anything it had made her more greedy and desperate. There were so many more terrifying beings out there—like the Scarlet Witch herself, she had wished she brought the stones together herself. The power she took from the dark dimension was extremely strong, but it was incomparable to any infinity stone, let alone them all combined.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Perhaps the reason Wanda’s story had fascinated her so much was the strength she had and the little knowledge of how to use it all. Had that power been in her hands, had she been so lucky to encounter and infinity stone, she would have used it <em>so well</em>. The idea of dominating, of becoming so powerful she was unstoppable in her quest, it brought that tingle to her soul—<em>joy</em>. Most people wouldn’t feel such arousals with chaos and destruction, but Agatha did. And Wanda was forged and destined for it, so perhaps they weren’t so different after all, perhaps that was why she felt so drawn to the redhead’s chaos, all Wanda needed as mentor to push her in the <em>right</em> direction.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Those weren’t thoughts she could leave accessible to Wanda, she was too naive, too raw in her self discoveries to be able to face the fact her fate was to bring doom upon the universe. So she kept them hidden, locked away in places Wanda wouldn’t know to look even if she invaded Agatha’s mind unexpectedly. But she hadn’t, not intendedly at least, not since the day before. Even with Agatha feeling her so out of her game and so curious, she stood her truth and respected Agatha’s <em>dignity</em>—as she’d requested. It didn’t stop Agatha from calling her out on the day’s practice.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“You’re distracted, dear,” Agatha pointed out, arms crossed in front of her chest. The Darkhold floated in front of her, an incantation Wanda had made so they could go over the spells she was meant to learn (with little progress that morning). “Laziness won’t do.”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“I’m not being lazy, I just have a lot on my mind,” Wanda trailed off, looking back at the book as she stood beside Agatha—the incantations looking different to each of them as the book adapted accordingly to each viewer.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“What could be so important other than opening the portal to the dimension your children are trapped in?” Agatha was truly intrigued now, from their last chat the previous night, before she’d been turned back into Agnes, there hadn’t been much in plan. Unless Wanda had gone rogue on testing the spells. “Is the macrame lifestyle growing fond on you?”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Wanda rolled her eyes, because of course Agatha had to end a sentence with mockery. “No, that’s not what I’m worried about.” She picked the book up, slamming it closed in the process. “I have a question.”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Not like I have any option,” Agatha shrugged at Wanda’s anticipating gaze—that waited for the avail to carry on. She folds her fingers and misses the familiar purple smoke rolling from it, but Wanda gets the message to continue.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Do you recall any of your dreams when you’re Agnes?”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Agatha doesn’t answer, but it’s the way she freezes that tells Wanda the unsaid response.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“What happened last night?” Wanda asks then.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Don’t you remember Westview? I absorb <em>your</em> grief, <em>your</em> sadness, <em>your</em> sorrow,” the witch trailed off, pacing to the ridiculously small sofa that stood by the old stove. She thought for a second it was quite ridiculous to be in such conditions when you could literally create the best living. Surely Wanda didn’t need to build a mansion in the mountains, but that ancient witch lifestyle was quite absurd.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“No.” Wanda shook her head firmly, granting a frown from Agatha.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“No what?”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“This was you. It had nothing to do with me. You were… Scared.” Wanda tried to place the right word to the feeling, but it didn’t begin to compare how the woman had truly looked like waking up. Agatha—Agnes had been utterly terrified.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Perhaps it was of you I was scared of,” Agatha trailed off, sighing. “This discussion will lead us nowhere, dear. We are wasting precious time.”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Stop lying, Agatha.” Wanda held her stand, the book of the doomed pressed tight against her chest for a moment more than necessary. She waved her hands and it flew into air, with a snap red smoke made it disappear. She marched toward Agatha but took a seat on the other sofa.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Don’t make me go in to look for it,” she said more firm this time.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Agatha considered her words form a moment, licking her lips as she stared at the witch. They both dressed so oddly off beat for the cabin, Wanda in her Scarlett Witch attire and Agatha in her <em>scary witch </em>combo. It didn’t feel like a conversation she wanted to have with her enemy, but she realized her position there as a mentor would entitle telling Wanda <em>some</em> of her secrets.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“If we won’t be practicing, please change me into something more casual.” Agatha leaned back against the couch and upon her request Wanda waved her hands. The red cloud took over Agatha for a moment and when it settled she was in jeans and a comfortable sweater—<em>red</em>. She groaned in utter annoyance. “Really? <em>Red</em>?”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Wanda, for once, was laughing genuinely loud as her powers also switched her back into comfortable clothes.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“I don’t know, it suits you, Agatha.” She’d chuckled watching the other witch roll her eyes slow and dramatically.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Doubtful.” She didn’t want to indulge on Wanda’s play, but a smirk lingered on her lips momentarily and the redhead caught a glimpse of it, right before snapping her fingers so that the top turned to Agatha’s signature purple. “<em>Thank you</em>,” Agatha said, sarcasm dripping over her tone.</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">Recovered from the moment, Wanda brought her feet up on the couch, pressing her legs against her chest in a more relaxed position (almost as if she was sitting back to listen to an interesting tale).</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“Now tell me.”</p><p class="p5"> </p><p class="p4">“It started before the vision you saw in my mind that day in Westview, before my coven was gone…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, you're all the very best people, thank you for you lovely reviews and hyping me up, it always works wonders for my writing boost. This one has a bit of a <em>moment</em> for our ladies, so have fun! ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <strong>CHAPTER THREE</strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">—</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”</p><p class="p3">― <em>Stephen King</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">—</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Agatha was a young little thing, bright eyes, soft skin, an eagerness to learn. She’d grown up in that area with her mother, and no father, but it was never just the two of them. She was no more than five when she got introduced to magic and found herself completely <em>charmed </em>by it. Agatha had always realized her mother wasn’t ordinary, but she didn’t know she was the same until then. (Of course, it took many years still for Agatha to even get close to spell lessons and incantation books, but she’d always had magic in her, sometimes casting it by mere accident. Her mother Guinevere was a witch, had always been one, leader of a coven, and Agatha had followed the woman around her entire life, watching attentively and learning even before it was time. Guinevere was the loving kind, she was strict, serious and extremely distant as a mother and a mentor. Not only with Agatha—who always admittedly had a sense of rebellion within her, she was like that to everyone. Every single witch was treated the same, and that included Agatha.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She had grown questioning if her mother had ever loved her, or maybe if it had something to do with the fact she had no father at all. It wasn’t so much that it made Agatha loathe Guinevere, but she couldn’t stand the woman. The admiration she had withheld as a child was merely that—a childish infatuation. Agatha grew to realize her mother and herself had nothing alike. She played in comfort zones, never risking, never breaking the rules. Agatha was the exact opposite. Everything was about going further and wanting more, about challenging every rule, every enchantment, every command, and everyone. But especially Guinevere.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">For long, the only issue it presented was the distancing of mother and daughter. Guinevere treated her like every other witch and Agatha repay with the same treat, the same sort of absence in presence. It made Agatha stronger in a sense. She hadn’t been that much closer to the other witches and so she was often alone. None truly wanted to be connected with Agatha’s rule breaking rampages—well, all except one. Minerva and Agatha were but the same age, having grown up both in the same coven. Minerva had been left behind by her family, threatened to be persecuted by their daughter’s witchcraft. So she too knew a lot of loneliness. It was no surprise they had grown to be friends, the closest really.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Minerva, much like Agatha, was drawn to power, but she didn’t have the same skill as Agatha did. No one did, truly, not even Guinevere herself (Agatha had given thought several times as to <em>why</em> she and her mother weren’t close. She was always well aware how her skill surpassed anyone’s in their coven, even when she had just started practicing magic, and often she had wondered if Guinevere didn’t love her because she felt threatened. She wondered if they were distant because of that). But Minerva had stood by Agatha for long, at least until things started taking a wicked road for the witches.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">It had been Minerva who found the Darkhold, hidden in a cave inside Guinevere’s vault. Their coven lived in the ruins of what had been grounds to great witchcraft and there had been rumors of a powerful book that roamed the Earth still, for over two-thousand years, a book that contained the darkest of the dark magics. It was common for Agatha and Minerva to get themselves in places they shouldn’t be peeking and it had often got them into serious trouble. But Agatha hadn’t initially taken part on that first turn of events. When the book was brought to her though, <em>everything</em> changed.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“It was in your mother’s vault,” Minerva told her, an excitedly grin pursing through her lips as she eyed the dark haired witch. Minerva was this short little woman. Brown hair and deep grey eyes that held darkness and the deepest sorrow in them.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“You went there without me?” Agatha felt almost betrayed to hear such news. She looked over atthe book glowing black glowing matter around it. They need to be advanced in their spells to know exactly what it meant. It was a cursed grimoire, filled with darkness. “This is dark magic, Minerva.”</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“You really believe I did not know?” She smiled the most wide and most wicked grin and Agatha joined her as the opened the book. It was Agatha the had done it at first, her fingers tingling when she ran them over the inscriptions in there. “<em>Libro de morituram amplectitur</em>,” Agatha read the latin words with ease. Her poise with the language was also something beyond explainable. No one had ever taught Agatha to read the spell and the inscriptions, her mother always claiming she was far too young to be delving into some areas, telling her she should follow her rank.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Agatha had never really been able to help it. The magic drew her in. She was often either too eager or too bored, achieving to excel and to learn more each time. It made Guinevere fear her development to be too quick—as the rules followed all witches had to learn spells and incantations of their own rank and <em>never</em> get involved with dark magic.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Your fingers!” Minerva gasper, as Agatha’s fingertips darkened ever so slightly. When they turned to face each other, Agatha’s eyes had purple glow to them and her grim was wide. “Agatha, what’s happening?” Just as quick as it had happened, it had faded. Her eyes back to the pale blue shade they always had and her fingers to their natural color.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">They were silent, Minerva’s fear so palpable it was almost catchable in the air.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“What happened?”</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I saw, Minerva.” Agatha was still in awe. She looked as though her mind had been lost for a moment, deep in thinking and reflecting on all the things she’d seen.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“What did you see?” Minerva, frightfully, insisted.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Everything</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">t was tricky weeks that followed them. Minerva had insisted they put the book back in place, which they had but this time Agatha had ventured to the vault with her friend, which granted knowing where it had been hidden.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Every night, when the torches of the village were out and the witches had retrieved to bed, Agatha found herself clinging to the book, reading the incantations and diving deeper and deeper into darkness.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Wanda was looking dumbfounded at Agatha, caught silent and impressed by the tale. She leaned back on the couch that she had been leaning forward ever since Agatha had told her about Minerva finding the book. It wasn’t the full story of course, it wasn’t even the end of it, but she reckoned it was all Wanda required to know for now. What had followed that first discovery of the book were months, tirelessly studying dark magic, letting those forces control and take over her.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Agatha hadn’t turn evil because of the book. She wasn’t even sure she believed in good and evil, she was drown to power and the Darkhold withheld so much of it. At the time the witch had been so taken, so surprised by it and the fact her mother, so full of rules, actually possessed something like that in close reach of other witches—like Agatha herself.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">It took several months for Guinevere to actually catch Agatha and even then she hadn’t been immediately punished. She had claimed not to know anything about that being full of dark magic, had pleaded her mother for forgiveness and promised to be good. She had been granted a second chance, but things were there the same again. Not for Agatha and not for the coven. Her mother grew more suspicious of her, knowing the strength of the Darkhold and how it could overcome a naive witch like her daughter. She suspected even that it might be too late for Agatha, and the mother hadn’t been wrong. But the rest was history.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Were you dreaming of your coven, then?” Wanda wondered, eyebrows raised as she tried to make the clear connection between the dream and Agatha’s tale.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Not them, <em>the book</em>.” She made a motion to the air that moved around them, Agatha always feeling its constant presence of darkness and magic, even if she didn’t have her own. Even when Wanda would cast it hidden into a different dimension, it still roamed around them, circling magic into their atmosphere. “It’s the book of the doomed, Wanda, and I’m one with it.”</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">It was true, her fingers darkening weren’t but a side effect of any spells, no. Agatha had darkness take over her in ways that were unimaginable. She’d become connected to the book to the point it was almost as if she was its own oracle. Her mere existence now hung on the balance of the book still existing. It was impossible, from her knowledge, that the Darkhold could be destroyed, so of that she had no fear. But she’d managed to live all these years <em>because of it</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“But it still haunts me, its forces and the darkness. It isn’t an easy exchange,” she explained, seeing the moment Wanda’s expression grew worried and quickly switched to terror.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Will this be my future?”</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“It could.” Agatha wasn’t one for lying or sugar coating things—not for the most part at least.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“But I’m studying it,” Wanda insisted, worry spread across her face.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Agatha shook her head, “It’s a possibility, dear. You’re studying yourself, your skills, discovering who you really are. <em>But</em> if you were to give into darkness, then your fate could be much like mine.” For Wanda would be so different, Agatha imagined, given she was the Scarlet Witch and her powers were beyond comparable. But darkness was darkness in any being and form and it would manifest in her as it had in Agatha herself.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">The new information seemed to take Wanda aback and she rose to her feet, walking to put a kettle to boil. Agatha sat back, relaxed and comfortable in her indoor clothes, and watched as the other witch moved around the room.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“What troubles you, angel? Are you afraid to be like me?” Agatha’s tone was taunting and all of the sudden Wanda remember why she enjoyed Agnes’s presence so much more.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want to hurt people,” she said short.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Well, you already have.” It was Agatha’s turn to raise to her feet, waking toward the window of the cabin, where the boundaries of her incarceration stood. She couldn’t cross it as Agatha, only in her Agnes form where she didn’t recall her true self and her powers. There was also the matter of the bracelet Wanda had cast to her wrist, a trapping spell. Not for Agatha, but for her powers.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She had called her evil and cruel, because it kept her powers right there, so close. They were inside the bracelet itself. Wanda had cast it naturally, like she did all her spells, when the two had agreed that Agatha would help her with incantations and her studies. Wanda had shown up in the middle of the night, the women had talked and when the agreement was settled, the Scarlet Witch had enchanted the bracelet to her arm, all her powers trapped in there.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Wanda had told Agatha once the deal was finished, once she found herself satisfied with her development and knowledge, she would release Agatha’s powers back to her.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">It was torturing because it was right there. If she was to open the lock, Agatha could absorb all back. But it wasn’t as easy as opening a bracelet, not simple at all, or else the older witch would have managed to snatch her powers back long before. But they were there, so close to her, tickling her skin, begging to return to their rightful owner. And yet, Agatha had to live with the knowledge, and the pain, of knowing that she would have to wait.</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5"><span class="s1">“That’s not helping,” Wanda broke the trance, making Agatha face her, turning on her heels, both witches </span> <span class="s2">stared at each other with defiance.</span></p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Well, but it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Agatha crossed her arms staring at her. There was Westview and there had been Lagos before that. It was not a question whether or not Wanda was a dangerous being, that much was beyond clear. From time to time the older witch would get tired of playing nice to her, of watching her fold into this nice facade she put out when Agatha and Wanda both knew what she was capable of.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“You have hurt people,” she continued, stepping forward toward Wanda, taunting the witch.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Stop it.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Lagos…”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Agatha.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Then, Westview.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">Wanda growled under her breath, something in her mother language, and it only made Agatha the more pleased about it.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Even Vision.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Enough!”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">There was a force that struck at Agatha and lifted her up in the air. A string of red light and smoke creeping around Agatha’s neck, squeezing it. The same light glowing in Wanda’s eyes, her fingers twitching and turning to move the magic in the direction she wanted. The other witch was gasping, not only running out of air, but the strength of the choke paining her neck and making her groan in pain.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Good girl,” Agatha managed out, amused through the twinge, her lips curved up in a smirk. Wanda seemed to suddenly realize what the other witch was doing and let go of her, dropping her heavily on the floor whilst the brunette gasped anxiously for air.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“You shouldn’t have done that.” Wanda roared under her breath. Agatha’s smile grew larger as she fixed her hair, looking up at the Scarlet Witch.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“We both know you won’t kill me. You <em>need me</em>, Wanda.” It was a tease, a taught of the worst kind, and Wanda knew she couldn’t, shouldn’t cave. But she still eyed her ferociously.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Keep trying your luck like that, and one day I just might.” Wanda spit out angrily, but it didn’t shake up Agatha’s balance and confidence, instead she only smiled largely at the other woman.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“I’d love to see that.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Agatha. I swear, quit this—“</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">She interrupted Wanda, “You have to let it out at some point, dear. Holding all this in will only poison you and won’t let you grow in your power.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“It won’t happen with you angering me,” she nearly barked, pacing irritatedly through the bedroom.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“You asked for my help, didn’t you? This is me helping you.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“No!” Wanda charged toward Agatha again, trapping her. Her eyes were glowing red but this time she wasn’t using her powers, but her rage was a solid tension around them. Agatha’s back found the wall when the redhead was pointing at her. “Stop with your mind games, stop trying to make me break, because if I do…”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“When you do,” Agatha said quickly, lips curving in a jeering grim.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“<em>If </em>I do, I’ll end you.” Wanda didn’t let herself be shake by it. They were standing so close to each other, Agatha could feel her ferocious breath against her cheeks, but the provocative smile lingered. “And you know that, don’t you, Agatha?”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t respond. Agatha <em>knew</em> that Wanda could end her, she knew her life was in great danger in Wanda’s hands, especially without her powers. Wanda was volatile, alarmingly out of control. But she still wanted to drive her to the edge, to test her limits and bring out the dangerous parts of her.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“I know you can, Wanda dear.” Agatha inspected her closely, her fear still stronger than her indignation. She was trapped against the wall, powerless, with Wanda hovering over her (for a brief moment, just the slips of a second, Agatha absentmindedly noted how the freckles in Wanda’s cheeks were many, spread out in perfect chaos making her face a delicate painting. She had been this close to her before, and she had noticed the freckles too, but just now that it occurred to her how much of a magnificent spread they were.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">And there was Wanda’s scent too, a feminine and citric smell that invaded her nostrils so faintly, thanks to their proximity. Of that Agatha hadn’t observed before, not until then, on how Wanda smelt fresh always, even in the middle of that filthy old cabin. It was quite surprising.)</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“But you won’t,” Agatha continued, broken from her trance when Wanda huffed in resentment. “You have good in you, you want to be good.” There was disdain in Agatha’s voice, mockery even.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“I’d rather be good than be like you.” The words came out like a slap in the face, but Agatha didn’t let it exasperate her. She was still smirking in the end, the mask hiding her true emotions.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“I may be rotten to the bone, sweetheart, but at least I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">Wanda laughed at those words, shaking her head. “That’s not true, either. You just don’t want to feel weak, you’re afraid to show that in you.” She wasn’t wrong about that, but Agatha never really believed about herself.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not some musical failure of a witch, tots,” Agatha laughed, amused really. “<em>I can’t be good</em>.” The smile had faded in the end, her expression serious when she stared at Wanda. “I would take all you powers if I could and I’d end you and leave, if I could.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Fine. Do it then.”</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">Much to Agatha’s surprise, Wanda took a step back, giving the witch some space, and she folded her fingers against her palms. The sound of the bracelet unlocking and dropping to the ground a loud, deafening thud releasing her magic. Purple smoke evolved around Agatha, the strings of magic creeping up her arms as she took a long relieved breath, her eyes nearly rolling all the way up to her skull as she felt it all involve her.</span>
</p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p8">
  <span class="s1">“Go ahead, Agatha, end me.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yet another cliffhanger! Hope you all don't hate me yet ♡</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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